Lunacy
by Moonysilverwolf
Summary: Daughter of The Destroyer and of The Protector. Taken from the wizarding world before she even knew what it was. She's back and she's not going to sit back and watch her father destroy the people she had grown to love. Harry/oc Harryxoc
1. Prologue

Albus Dumbledore is a man who is not often taken by surprise. He is collected and hides his worries well behind his twinkling blue eyes.

But as he stared down at the bundle in his arms he couldn't help but to let his surprise show.

Just hours before he had received a rather urgent owl from his brother. That in itself told him something was terribly wrong. As he read the letter, an uneasiness started to boil in his stomach.

When he arrived at the rather run down inn, the first thing he took notice of was the light spots of blood that lead to the doorway.

That uneasiness grew as he stepped into the dark building. He followed the sound of heavy breathing into a small room lit with candles.

There, laying on the worn mattress that had seen better days, was Celeste Ivonne.

Albus had known that when his brother had mentioned in his letter that a former student of his was in need of his aid, that if would be Celeste.

During her teenage years Celeste had become a ward of Aberforth's.

Celeste was a beautiful child, who Albus suspected had Veela blood in her.

Her parents died at a young age. Leaving her in an orphanage for her first ten years of life.

Unfortunately her life there was not savory. She had been dealt a bad hand and Albus had sought to turn the tables, so to speak.

He had set her up a residence in Hogsmeade. Leaving her in the care of Aberforth. Aberforth had been stoic, not acknowledging the young girl that had been left in his care. But to the surprise of those around him, he grew to love the small blonde girl like a daughter.

Albus had watched them grow closer from afar. He was glad his brother and the poor girl found family in each other. But as Celeste grew, she started to associate with the wrong sort.

By her fifth year at Hogwarts she was infatuated with the Riddle boy. But what surprised Albus was that Tom returned these feeling. The boy who was never meant to feel love, found it in this powerful Ravenclaw girl. If they were not destined, Albus would not have believed it to be true.

Only three know of the prophecy that foretold their love. And Albus and his brother are two of the three.

The pairs graduation had been the last time Albus or Aberforth had seen her.

Until now. More than two decades later.

She looked as though time did not effect her much. She was timeless and just as beautiful as the day she left. Her silver blonde hair was stuck to her face in sweat and her silver eyes were hidden behind skewered lids.

She was panting and her face was tight with pain. Her obviously pregnant belly was heaving up and down with the force of her breathing. Blood was coating the inside of her legs, indicating that something was wrong with the baby.

When Albus noticed this he rushed to her side. Aberforth, who had been holding her hand, turned to look at him with pained eyes.

"Albus, please.", he begged.

Albus didn't need his pleas. He would help her. But he wasn't confident he could save her.

Healing magic on someone as pregnant as Celeste was limited and Celeste was weak from blood loss.

She knew she was dying. She knew that her time had come to an end. The only thing that gave her peace was knowing her daughter would live.

"Please, you have to save her. She's dying. He'll kill her when he finds out. He'll kill our daughter. Please.", she pleaded.

He looked into her eyes and saw her mind was made. She would die tonight. But her child would live.

With a solemn nod he looked to Aberforth who had tears in his eyes that refused to fall. Aberforth squeezed her hand one last time and left the room. Unable to watch.

The next hour was silent other than Celeste's screams. There was no way possible to birth the baby by natural means.

He had no choice, but to preform a caesarean section. He looked to her as it was her choice. She nodded her head with a pained smile.

After a few minutes the room was filled with a worrying noise. It wasn't the noise they were expecting. They had expected the sound of a baby's wail, but what they received was nothing. Everything was silent. The screams of the new mother were now silent. Aberforth, who had just entered the room, was silent. The crickets that usually took residence in the trees behind the shabby inn, were silent. The trees that rustled in the winter wind, were now silent.

The baby that had just been born, was silent.

But then the baby gave a small, pitiful cough and began to cry.

It was as though the universe around them gave a sigh of relief and sound existed again.

Celeste smiled a weak smile and reached out for her daughter. The daughter she would only meet once besides in death.

And here they are. Albus staring at the small bundle of life he had aided bringing into the world, in surprise.

His eyes twinkled sadly when he handed the baby girl to her mother.

Celeste's life had not been a good one. She had suffered, been beaten down, been defiled, and deceived. But she had also found love. It was a love that no one one understood. Not even her. But the love was real and she had let it blind her from who she was. She was an Ivonne. She was meant to protect those who could not protect themselves. When she let him kill those people. She lost who she was.

But when she was told she was with child she knew. She knew Tom would be threatened. He had good reason to be. He may be the love of her life, but the child she had never even met felt as though it was apart of herself. Someone she would protect with her life and love with her entire being. Someone to protect from others who wish to harm her. Even if it was the child's father.

When she had a vision of an airy women deliver a prophecy that involved her daughter in the downfall of her husband, she knew it was time to disappear.

He will not harm our child, she thought as she looked down at the now silent baby.

She could tell already that the girl will be powerful. She has the blood of Slytherin and Ivonne running through her veins.

She had seen visions of her little girl growing to be a beautiful witch. With elegance and strength beyond her years.

She would be noble and honorable. A true Ivonne.

"Aceline Iven Ivonne. My little archer. Be kind and don't ever loose who you are.", she said to her precious baby. Letting a single tear fall.

She suddenly grabbed Albus's hand. He could feel something cold being pressed into his palm.

When she took her hand away he could see a necklace. One made of silver and in the shape of an arrow.

"You have to keep her safe. Please, whatever it takes. Keep my little girl safe.", she whispered as her eyes fluttered shut. Her arms that were squeezing the baby close went limp and the baby on her chest began to wail.

Albus did what he thought was best.

He took Aceline to a muggle orphanage with a letter stating her first name and bound her magic.

The only way for her to be safe is if she disappeared from the wizarding world.

Many people would want to harm her if her heritage became known.

The day Celeste Ivonne died was also the day her daughter was taken away from the wizarding world with the intent of her never returning.


	2. Growing Up

Six years earlier...

Maybe it was the whispers in her head. Or maybe it was the buildup in her stomach whenever she got overwhelmed. But Aceline knew she was different.

At 8 months old she was adopted into a nice family. A young muggle couple, who were not able to have children, had come into the orphanage looking to adopt.

It was a process, but they were determined to bring home the beautiful little baby girl that had the whole staff wrapped around her chubby little finger.

The new family of three were happy for almost eight years.

Aceline grew into a beautiful little girl. She didn't talk much, but when she did talk everyone fell silent to hear her voice. It was a sound that demanded your attention.

She was smart. She was top of her class.

She knew things about people that sometimes they didn't even know about themselves.

She was a diamond in the rough. A shining beacon that enraptured people. Something about her light filled eyes led people to her.

She was bold. She would often get into situations that didn't involve her and speak her mind. And people would listen.

But she was just a girl. And she felt like something was missing.

Aceline did not like to fail. So when she couldn't get something right she became frustrated.

When she became frustrated or angry she could feel something bubbling to the surface. But before it could boil over, it would fade away as if it were never there. This feeling made her sad. And she didn't understand it.

How could she be sad about loosing something she never had?

She would hear things. Whispers...

Telling her about people and places. Random things she didn't need to know and things that didn't make any sense.

She listened to the whispers, but did not whisper back. She knew it wasn't considered normal to other people.

So she ignored the whispers and murmurs of the unknown voices.

That is, until they weren't whispers anymore. They were loud drums beating in her ears. Too jumbled to understand and to loud to focus on.

She was doing homework at the kitchen table when it happened.

There was a knock on the door. Her mother went to open it, but paused and looked through the peep hole.

She couldn't hear anything anymore besides the blaring beat in her head.

The door was suddenly slammed open. Her mother was hit by the door and flew into the wall before slumping to the ground unconscious.

The man who came through the door was dressed in a black cloth with a white bony mask covering his face.

He wasn't scary. He looked ridiculous. But the voices that were screaming in her head took on a scared tune. Telling her that she should be afraid.

Her father ran into the room looking worried. He started to yell, but she could not hear.

Then the man pulled out a stick and pointed it at her father.

The voices were unbearable and panicked.

A green light came out of the stick and hit her father in the chest. He crumpled to the ground. His eyes were staring straight at her, but they were not his. They were not the joyful eyes that would tease her when she would fall asleep at the breakfast table. Or the squinted eyes that held suspicion when she would walk into the room with a smug smile.

No, they were empty and void of life. No longer were they eyes that would look at her with love.

It was then that the voices collided. So unbearably loud. Staring at her fathers blank stare was too much.

She held her head in her hands and screamed.

She screamed so loud the windows shattered and the picture frames that held happy memories exploded in a shower of glass.

The feeling she would often get in her stomach returned. Only this time it did not disappear. It exceeded its boiling point and bubbled over.

The last thing she saw before falling unconscious was the blast of light that surrounded her and knocked the strange man to the wall.

•¥•

She woke up to the sound of sirens.

She lifted her head and began to cry.

Everything was stained red. The awful purple wallpaper that her mother let her pick out when she was five was splattered with blood. The floors were now a pool of red.

Her mother was behind the open front door, but now had gashes all along her body and a kitchen knife in her chest.

Her father was lying in the hall entrance. His white shirt was now red.

She sobbed. When she went to cover her eyes she noticed her hands were also painted red.

When the police showed up at her house they found her in hysterics.

When they questioned the young girl, the eight year old had spouted nonsense about a man in a white mask killing her father with a stick that made flashes of green light.

To the policemen it was quite obvious the couple had not been killed by light. They were murdered in a brutal way. The call that they had received had mentioned a young girl yelling at her parents and then screams being heard. And the bloody handprint on the knife matched her own.

They had to go by the evidence. Even though none believed such a young girl could do something so cruel.

Four days later Aceline Andrade was admitted into Preston Hills Sanatorium for the Mentally Ill.

She didn't belong there. She knew she didn't. She was not insane. She knows the truth and it would take more that a bloody handprint to change her mind.


	3. Preston Institute

The Preston Institute was not a good place to live. The rooms were small, the bathrooms were shared, there was no respect for personal boundaries, and the food sucked.

You would think that after five years I would get used to living in the drab undercover prison. But I didn't.

The first year was the worst. I was practically a prisoner.

Stuck in a room with nothing but my thoughts. The only company being the staff that would bring me food and lead me to the showers.

The second year was slightly better than the first. But not by much. I got moved to the ground floor. The ground floor is where they keep the crazies that still have some sanity left in their brains.

Being on the ground floor was a hell of a lot better than the locked rooms they keep on the third floor. At least now I could move around.

The only thing that makes me regret being on the ground floor was the people. I swear once a week you see a some lunatic running nude through the halls.

By the third year of my incarnation I had a reputation for not talking. I was just the mute girl who stared into space and lost herself in her own mind.

By my fourth year everyone had me pegged as a psychopath. The psychiatrist said I'm "void of emotion". How the hell would he know, anyway?

And then I bring you to this year. My fifth year. And my last. You're probably wondering how I know that. Well, let's rewind shall we?

When they had hauled me out of my bloodied kitchen all those years ago I had felt something different. Something was stirring inside of me. Something that felt so natural and welcoming it had only made me cry harder.

After my "episode" strange things have been occurring. It wasn't just the voices in my head anymore. It was more than that.

It wasn't so noticeable at first. The voices were louder, but much easier to block out. My vision had improved also. It was never bad to begin with, but now everything was more focused. My reflexes were faster. When I would run the halls I ran so fast I felt as though I was flying.

But these things aren't too extreme. They were easy to handle. The were even a welcomed change.

But after a year things started to escalate and I had come to know what these abilities meant.

It all started with a dream. One short little nap had opened a floodgate that could never be closed again.

The dream felt so real. I saw a beautiful woman with hair as white as snow lying on an old bed. Her stomach was bloodied and slit open. An old man was with her, holding something wrapped in a brown cloth that I soon recognized as a baby. He looked worn and sad. He handed the baby to the woman, but stood close.

The woman gazed down at the bundle with such love and care it was heartbreaking.

Then she spoke the words that spun my life around.

"Aceline Iven Ivonne. My little archer. Be kind and don't ever loose who you are."

The woman was my mother. She must be. My parents never kept it a secret that I was adopted and how many people name their child Aceline?

Over the next few weeks I had more dreams about my birth mother.

I saw her as a young girl being whisked of to a magical school. I saw her meet an old grump of a man that soon became her father figure. I saw her learn about her family, our family.

All she ever wanted was family. And she found it in the old grump. But she wanted more. She wanted to learn who her family was. And she did.

The Ivonne's name traces back to the time of Merlin. They were intuned with the magic around them. They went wherever they were needed most. They protected people who could not protect themselves. They fought with wands and breakaway arrows.

Many witches and wizards don't know how to defend themselves against muggle weapons and the bow was the most lethal to them. It can be fired from a long distance away and its harder to heal yourself when an arrowhead is stuck inside of you.

My mother may not have known it at the time, but she was the one to teach me what it was to be an Ivonne.

I saw her fall in love.

She fell in love and all of a sudden she wasn't the sweet little girl who wanted to protect people anymore.

She became dark and cold, but none the less in love.

My mothers adult life was fuzzy. As though a hazy film had been placed over the dreams. As though someone didn't want me to see something.

After months of dreaming about my mother I had grown used to it. Falling asleep just to see her face. But when I went to sleep on the night before my tenth birthday I dreamt of someone different. It was a boy.

The boy was my age and he was asleep. At least I thought he was asleep. That is until he rolled over and I could see that his eyes were open. His eyes were a deep green that shown like emeralds. But they were sad. So sad in fact that there were tears threatening to fall past the thick lashes that framed them. He closed his eyes before they could. As though he didn't want to cry.

I didn't know what was going through this boys head or why it would make him so sad. But I did know that I didn't want him to cry.

I looked around my surroundings and realized there wasn't much to see. It looked like a broom closet. My sadness for this boy doubled.

I wanted to help. I truly did, but how could I? There was a good chance this boy wasn't real.

I wanted to help even if there was a chance he wasn't real, because there was also the chance that he was real and in real pain.

I reached my hand out and touched the boys cheek.

He opened his eyes and the tears that threatened to fall, finally fell. He looked confused. He reached up to touch his cheek and his hand went right through mine as I suspected it would.

He pulled his hand away, but I kept mine where it was. The boy needed comfort. So I did what my adopted mother used to do for me when I was sad. I hummed a song and moved my thumb against his cheek.

He smiled softly and his eyes drooped shut. I continued the soft tune until I could hear his soft snores.

As soon as I had stopped the song I had woken up in my own rickety bed.

That was the first time I had dreamt of Harry Potter. And it definitely wasn't the last.

That dream started a whole new adventure for me. I started to see more of the boy and it wasn't just in my dreams. I had started to hone my abilities. Control them to do what I wanted. It eventually got to the point were all I had to do is visualize his face and I would be there with him in a spiritual sense.

His relatives were absolutely horrid, he was bullied on a daily basis and he never got enough to eat in my opinion. The more I saw of his life the more I wanted to help. But all I could do was provide comfort. I continued to visit him on nights that he felt sad. It was as though my mind automatically went to him when he was in distress and I knew that he needed someone. And I was the only one who would be there.

I also started to see more of the magnificent castle where my mom learned magic. My dreams took me through the halls of Hogwarts and let me see its secrets. The classes were brilliant and the forest got more enchanting the farther you went into it.

The library was huge. I spent many nights reading some of the many books it had to offer. The library didn't offer much on the Ivonne family, but what little it did have I soaked up like a sponge.

I had also discovered the headmasters office.

The voices in my head didn't have too many good things to say about the strange man that was the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

They told me all about how he was the reason I was not raised in the world of magic.

I couldn't hold a grudge. If I had not been taken away that night, I would not have had the little time I did with my adoptive parents. What I did hold a grudge about was him loosing track of me.

How do you loose a child? And then after he found me he just left me. Just because you are safe physically does not mean you are safe mentally.

On my eleventh birthday I hoped for a letter that would announce my acceptance into Hogwarts. It never came.

I watched Harry get his letter and escape his relatives. I was so happy for him.

He made friends fast.

He was finally happy.

As delighted as I was for him, I couldn't help but feel sad he didn't need me anymore.

But on the night before Christmas of his first year he prayed. At first I was baffled. But the more he talked the more I realized he was praying to me.

"I don't know who, or really what you are. But I know you're there. You're always there. Well, you always were there. But not so much anymore. I don't really know where you went or anything really. But thanks for just being there for me I suppose."

It was stuttered and clumsy, but it was the sweetest thing I had heard in years.

I wished I could've gotten him a gift for Christmas, but I wasn't actually there. So I did the next best thing. I hugged him. I don't know how it felt for him, but I heard him give a soft sigh before tiredly climbing up the steps toward the boys dorms.

Now that Harry didn't need me as much, I spent most of my time awake.

People had started to get suspicious of my "daydreaming".

To the staff at the institute it looked as though I was brain dead most of the time. Staring off into space the way I did.

The next few years passed with me watching over the people of Hogwarts in my dreams. I saw Harry and his friends solve dangerous mysteries that I did not approve of. I watched the Weasley twins wreak havoc on those selected unfortunate souls. I watched Hagrid care for his pets. I had grown quite fond of Quidditch and have never missed a game. I had also taken to joining a class now and again with the "Golden Trio", as I had deemed them.

I knew most of the things taught already considering I had spent years reading up on magic in the Hogwarts library.

When I finally did get to Hogwarts I wanted to be prepared for anything.

Dark times were coming. I had seen it.

The problem with seeing the future was that it was never accurate. The past was done and the present was happening, but the future was unpredictable. That's why I never went out of my way to dig into the things I see. But somethings can't be ignored. There was a war coming. Darkness was going to cover the world. But there was a chance it could be stopped.

It was on one of my little trips to the future that I saw myself at Hogwarts fighting against the dark, side by side with Harry.

I knew I would see Hogwarts soon.

I just didn't know how soon.

In the summer after my fourteenth birthday I was watching Albus Dumbledore, when an owl flew through his window. He read the letter with wide eyes before hurrying to his feet.

One little peek at the future told me what I needed to know.

It was time to blow this popsicle stand.

And time for my story to really begin.


	4. Albus Dumbledore

It didn't take long for the headmaster to suddenly appear outside the institute.

He apparated in a small secluded spot just inside the gate and casually strolled in. No one stopped him. In fact, no one seemed to notice him at all.

Dillusionment Charm, I thought.

I waited for him to knock on my door before opening it.

He stood there in his eccentric robes with a smile on his face.

I just stared at him, hoping for him to start talking. I would start the conversation, but unfortunately my people skills are rusty.

"Hello, Aceline, I am-"

"I know who you are.", I interrupted. As I said. Rusty.

"Ah. If you know who I am then you may already know why I am here."

Not responding I just narrowed my eyes. He may be getting me out of here, but that's not going to make me forget that he knew I was in here. He had known for two years that I was stuck here and completely sane and didn't bother to help me. And all of a sudden he needs something done and he swoops in to save me like some manipulative hero.

"May I come in?"

I stepped to the side as an invitation.

He strolled in without hesitation, not even fazed by my glare.

"It seems you already know of the wizarding world?"

I just stared.

"Well, I am here to-"

"No you're not. You're here cause you need my help."

He just stared at me before smiling sadly.

"It seems you know a lot more than you let show.", he said.

"You could say that. You could also say that you had no idea where I was this entire time. But I wouldn't believe you."

I glared again, but this time I let my eyes meet his.

He took a sharp intake of breath. I know what he saw. Silver. The eyes of a true Ivonne.

I had seen what he would ask of me and I knew that if I didn't agree, darkness would snuff out the light in the end. He was here to ask me a favor. He wants me to protect Harry. Of course I would agree. That boy may not know it, but more people than he thinks wants him dead.

"I know why you are here. And I'll protect him. But not for you. I will do it for him and all the people who will die if he does not survive."

He stood baffled. I am not what he was expecting it would seem.

He probably expected a little girl who was weak willed due to her time alone. I am not weak. My suffering just made me stronger.

"It would seem you are very knowledgable. Many of your caretakers are under the impression-"

"That I am brain dead? Mentally challenged? Don't tell me you believed them.", I interrupted.

"I knew you are not what you seem."

"Looks like I'm not the only one with some brains.", I quipped.

I couldn't help it. He was trying too hard to be nice when we both know he was wary of me. And we both also know that he wouldn't let me within a mile of Harry without him knowing where my loyalties lie.

"Alright let's get outta here.", I say moving toward the door, getting impatient to be out.

He stayed where he was for a moment, baffled. As though he hadn't processed my words.

"Well?", I prompted.

"Miss Andrade-"

"My name is Ivonne.", he really only had himself to blame. If he had gotten me out two years ago I would have better manners.

"Miss Ivonne, how much of our world do you know of?"

I cocked my head to the side. How much did I know? There must be more to the wizarding world than Hogwarts, right? Now that I thought about it I didn't know much that didn't involve the wizardly school.

"I know a lot of things, but I also have a lot to learn.", I said.

"Do you know of the activities that will be occurring at Hogwarts this school year?", he asked me.

I started to get excited. I had been there when there were discussing the tasks and the thought of dragons had me giddy. I had never thought that I'd be there to see them though.

"The tournament? Of course! Are there really going to be dragons?!"

I had forgot for a moment that I was angry with the old wizard and he looked baffled by my sudden change in attitude.

He seemed a little more at ease now that my eyes weren't a cold silver and back to their original light filled grey.

He gave me a soft smile and replied, "Yes there will be dragons."

I smiled the largest smile I had in years. Actual dragons. I snapped out of my daze when he started talking again.

"This year Hogwarts will be hosting said tournament. And I believe it is not the best idea. But the minister was adamant in his decision. I can't help, but feel that there will be more to this tournament than friendly rivalry. Harry has been put in danger too many times in the past three years and I believe this year he will need someone to help him more than ever. It seems you already know of what I came to ask of you. And it is quite obvious that you have already decided to help him. But my question now is, are you willing to go against your father in the near future?"

That took me by surprise. I knew who my father was. But it took a lot of searching into the past. Many thing I tried to bring to the surface were just too far buried. But some thing I had managed to recover. Sadly, who my father is, was one of those memories.

I hated my father more than anyone else. He destroyed lives. He murdered Harrys parents. He created a fear in people and used it to manipulate them in disgusting ways.

"I am nothing like my father. Trust me when I say I am an Ivonne. And he is everything that I am against."

I met his eyes for the second. Letting him see the sincerity that floated in front of my thoughts and through my words.

He gave me a nod saying he believed me.

He stood up with a flourish and straitened out his robes.

With a clap of his hands he said,"Well, now that that's settled, we should be off."

I had already had my stuff packed. Of course it wasn't much. Some sweatpants and a few t-shirts along with a couple books I had snagged over the years from the lady at the front desk.

With a smile on my face and I ratty rucksack over my shoulder, I exited my room for the last time and couldn't be happier about it.

We walked through the halls unnoticed. When we walked out the front doors I tilted my head up to the sun that was just peaking through the clouds.

I hadn't bothered to go outside in months and my pale skin was soaking up the warmth with vigor.

We eventually walked down a secluded alley.

"We are going to be apparating to our destination.", he said while holding out his elbow towards me.

I had hear the term apparition many times, but I had never seen it in person and was intrigued.

I took his elbow and held my breath. Not knowing what to expect.

The next thing I knew everything went black, I was pressed very hard from all directions, I couldn't breathe, there were iron bands tightening around my chest, my eyeballs were being forced back into my head, my ear-drums were being pushed deeper into my skull.

By the time the crazy experience stopped I was gasping for air. Reading about it and experiencing it are two completely different things.

I quickly gathered my bearings and looked around. I had seen this place on a few different occasions when I would watch over Harry and his friends.

Hogsmeade.

Dumbledore led me to The Three Broomsticks.

"You'll be staying here until school starts on September first. In a few weeks either me or one of your professors will take you to Diagon Alley where you will retrieve your wand and school supplies. On September first you will ride the Hogwarts Express with the other students. Remember, you are to be just like any other student."

I just nodded along.

After his little rant we walked into the dinner/inn and he led me right over to the stairs.

The pretty blond behind the counter gave me a smile. Not even wondering why I was there.

Dumbledore must have tipped her off that I was coming, I thought.

We stopped in front of the door at the end of the hall. He unlocked the door and gestured for me to enter.

I walked in and studied my surroundings. It was cozy and comforting. Not something I was used to.

"I will see you on September first, miss Ivonne. I hope you enjoy your stay.", he said while handing me the keys.

I just waved him off. After he shut the door I flopped down on the bed with a sigh.

September first was too far away.


	5. Hogwarts Express

Knock...

Knock...

"Ugh."

Knock...

"Five for minutes.", I mumbled into my incredibly comfortable pillow. It was fluffy. I bet it's one of those pillows that if you were to hit someone with it, it would explode in a shower of feathers.

I heard a laugh on the other side of the door.

"Ace, I'm pretty sure you're gonna want to wake up."

Why on earth would I want to wake up? I was having a very good dream filled with dragons and dancing.

When I didn't answer I heard the person sigh.

"Aceline, Professor Dumbledore will be here any minute to take you to the platform."

That got me up.

"Shit!"

I hurry off the bed, but end up entangling myself in the sheets. As I tried to disentangle myself I heard the door creak open. I looked up and saw Rosmerta standing in the doorway laughing at my situation.

"Do you need any help?", she asked still laughing at me.

"No. I just-need-to-aahhh!"

Thump.

"Ow.", I mumble from my spot on the floor.

Rosmerta wasn't any help just standing their watching me struggle with some kind of sick amusement.

"Ya, laugh it up.", I say pulling myself into a standing position.

"You better hurry and get ready. You're leaving soon."

Rosmerta and I had gotten close over my two month stay. She had made things comfortable and easy to adjust. She was now like a fun aunt who would talk makeup and boys, but would also kick someone's ass if they hurt me.

She had pretty much taught me all the things a teenager girl should know. A few nights before, after the place was closed, she had come into my room and bombarded me with "essential girl stuff". She had spent four hours teaching me how to do my makeup and how to use my wand to do my hair.

I rush and change into some clothes I had gotten over the summer.

Three weeks ago a Professor Flitwick had taken me to Diagon Alley. I had seen the Alley before, but it was way more magical in person.

We had gone to Gringotts first. Apparently the Ivonne family was rather well off. Then got my wand. Acacia wood and dragon heartstring. After Ollivanders we got the rest of my supplies and uniform. I had insisted on getting new clothes. My wardrobe was rather lax. Flitwick knew my situation and didn't mind.

I changed clothes quickly, not wanting to be late. I put on the pair of jeans, brown boots, and plain blue tank top. I put my raven black hair in a pony tail and made sure my necklace was secure around my neck.

I quickly threw any stray items in my trunk and ran down stairs to find Dumbledore chatting with Rosmerta.

"Sorry. I slept late."

He turned towards me and smiled a surprised smile. I guess he expected something different. I had changed a lot in the past few months.

My skin wasn't the sickly pale that it used to be. I even thought I saw a tan beginning to form from all my time spent outside roaming the village. My hair was wavy instead of the depressing pin straightness it had been. And I definitely seemed happier.

"Miss Ivonne, I'm glad you are doing well.", he said.

"Ya well, being out of that hell hole sure does bring my spirit up."

"Aceline!", Rosmerta chastised.

All the while Dumbledore just chuckled as though he couldn't be more delighted.

Soon we were off to Kings Cross. I was practically bouncing with excitement by the time we got there.

We walked through the station with me pushing my cart.

"Why couldn't we have just apparated onto the platform?", I asked him slightly annoyed.

Dumbledore chuckled.

"Every Hogwarts student needs to get to the platform in the same manner."

I had a feeling he wasn't being completely truthful.

"How do I get to the platform then?", I ask as we came to a stop.

"You run through that wall.", he said pointing to the brick wall ten feet in front of us.

I stared at him trying to figure out if he's joking or not. When I found no sign of him playing a joke, I turned towards the wall.

Even if I couldn't run through it, how bad could it hurt?

I give him a skeptical look and he just smiled before disappearing with a loud crack.

I quickly look around to make sure no one saw and they were just going about there business as though a Merlin lookalike hadn't disappeared in mid air.

I shook my head. Crazy old man and his vagueness.

I gripped the handle of my trolley and ran towards the wall. When I was a foot away I shut my eyes by instinct. When I opened them I was in the middle of a platform bustling with people.

I gaped at the shiny red train that stood in front of me.

I eventually gathered my bearing enough to climb onto the train and find a compartment.

A just left my trunk on the floor, too lazy to do anything else. I grabbed a book from it before curling up on the seat next to the window.

The train had just started moving when three people came bustling into the compartment.

They stopped short when they saw me there. It was at that moment that I bothered to look at the storage rack. There were three trunks respectively.

I stopped short and did a double take when I realized who the three were.

The Golden Trio.

I smiled. They have no idea how glad I am to finally meet them. I've spent the past three years watching over them and now I can actually meet them. It was too surreal.

"Oh!", Hermione exclaimed.

"I'm sorry, I had not realized this compartment was taken. I can leave if you like.", I explained politely, knowing Hermione was far too nice to kick me out.

"Oh, no. It's completely fine. Are you new? I swear I haven't seen you before.", she said.

"Ya, new fourth year."

I stood up to shake hands.

"I'm Aceline Ivonne, but you can call me Ace."

"Im Hermione Granger. Ivonne did you say? That sound awfully familiar. I could've sworn I've read-"

"Gosh Mione, we just met the girl and you're scaring her away.", Ron interrupted her. "I'm Ron Weasley."

I smiled and offered my hand to shake.

"Nice to meet you.", I said making his ears turn red.

I turned towards Harry feigning ignorance.

"And you are?"

He looked like a deer caught in headlights for a moment before answering.

"I'm Harry.", he said stuttering slightly.

I smiled confused at his reaction before offering my hand to him as well.

He reached out and shook my hand.

"Well just Harry, it's a pleasure."

He flushed a strange color of pink.

I turned towards Hermione and winked. She just smiled and rolled her eyes at Harry.

I sat down and the rest soon followed.

"So Aceline, why is this your first year at Hogwarts?" Hermione asked me.

"It kind of a long story." I said.

"We've got time." Ron replied.

"Ron!", Hermione exclaimed. "She obviously doesn't want to talk about it."

I could tell a fight was about to break out so I was quick to intervene.

"Hey, don't worry about it.", I said.

"Have you been sorted yet?", Harry asked trying to diffuse the awkward silence that had developed.

I couldn't help but smile when I met his eyes. I hadn't checked in on him much during the summer and it was great to see him. Especially in person.

"I'm supposed to meet up with Professor Mcgonagall before the sorting." I replied.

"What house do you think you'll be in?" Ron asked.

"I'm not sure, but I think Gryffindor and Ravenclaw are most likely."

"Really? We're all in Gryffindor. It would be great to have another friend in our house." Hermione said before her eyes widened, "That is, of course, only if you-"

I interrupted her before she got to flustered. "You know what? Now that I think about Gryffindor is definitely the house for me."

They all smiled at their new friend.

The silence soon faded to comfortable conversation.

"What rules do you think your mom was talking about?" Harry asked Ron, continuing a previous conversation.

Ron groaned.

"I dont know! They've all been secretive. Like they couldn't tell us. Bagman wanted to tell us what's happening at Hogwarts," he said grumpily, from his spot next to Harry. "At the World Cup, remember? But my own mother won't say. Wonder what -"

"Shh!" Hermione whispered suddenly, pressing her finger to her lips and pointing toward the compartment next to theirs. Harry, Ron, and I listened, and heard a drawling voice drifting in through the open door.

"...Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, you see. Well, you know his opinion of Dumbledore - the man's such a Mudblood-lover - and Durmstrang doesn't admit that sort of riffraff. But Mother didn't like the idea of me going to school so far away. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually learn them, not just the defense rubbish we do..."

Hermione got up, tiptoed to the compartment door, and slid it shut, blocking out the voice.

"So he thinks Durmstrang would have suited him, does he?" she said angrily. "I wish he had gone, then we wouldn't have to put up with him."

"Who was that?" I asked.

"Draco Malfoy." They all said.

"He seems like a git the way he was speaking. Who does he think he is?" I said.

"Ya well that's Malfoy for you." Said Ron

The rain became heavier and heavier as the train moved farther north. The sky was so dark and the windows so steamy that the lanterns were lit by midday. The lunch trolley came rattling along the corridor, and Harry bought a large stack of Cauldron Cakes for us to share.

Ron was excitedly telling me of the Quidditch World Cup. I had spent the day of the World Cup holed up in my room at the inn zoned out, watching it right along with the trio, but I let him explain the game in detail to me anyway. I know how much Quidditch means to him.

"It was brilliant," said Ron. "Look at this, Ace..."

He rummaged in his trunk up in the luggage rack and pulled out a miniature figure of Victor Crum.

"Whoa, Victor Crum is even creepy looking when he's the size of my palm." I said.

"We saw him right up close, too," said Ron. "We were in the Top Box-"

"For the first and last time in your life, Weasley."

Draco Malfoy had appeared in the doorway. Behind him stood Crabbe and Goyle, his enormous, thuggish cronies.

Every time I saw Draco Malfoy I wanted to punch him in the face, but I never could. Considering I was practically a ghost.

"Don't remember asking you to join us, Malfoy," said Harry coolly.

"Weasley...what is that?" said Malfoy, pointing at Rons owls cage. A sleeve of Ron's dress robes was dangling from it. Ron had put it over the cage to silence the overactive bird, but he probably now regretted it.

Ron made to stuff the robes out of sight, but Malfoy was too quick for him.

"Look at this!" said Malfoy in ecstasy, holding up Ron's robes and showing Crabbe and Goyle, "Weasley, you weren't thinking of wearing these, were you? I mean - they were very fashionable in about eighteen nine-"

Before he could finish the sentence I had him backed up against the compartment door with my wand to his neck.

He stared at me in a daze before his eyes flickered down to my wand and gulped. I let my eyes flash silver to let him know who he was dealing with.

Seeing my eyes he looked as though he would pass out.

"Y-y-you!", he exclaimed.

"So.." I said in a sultry voice. "You're Lucius Malfoys son? Let me tell you something. You and your dad, are arseholes. "

I shoved him out of the compartment and his goons rushed out to help him.

I shut the door and locked it before turning to the others in the compartment who looked gobsmacked.

"That was amazing." Harry gaped.

I just smiled sweetly and took a bow. When Dumbledore asked me to protect him I may have made a silent vow to protect the whole trio. They're a "You can't have one without the others" sort of deal. One gets hurt, all gets hurt in a different way. And the deal was don't let Harry get hurt...too bad, anyway.

Not long after, the train came to a stop and we were trailing out into the rain.

The rain was now coming down so thick and fast that it was as though buckets of ice-cold water were being emptied repeatedly over their heads.

We hurried to where a hundred carriages stood waiting for us outside the station. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I climbed gratefully into one of them, the door shut with a snap, and a few moments later, with a great lurch, the long procession of carriages was rumbling and splashing its way up the track toward Hogwarts Castle.


End file.
